


Focus

by exarkhos



Category: Stranger Mukou Hadan | Sword of the Stranger
Genre: Coming In Pants, Dubious Consent, Hand Jobs, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-14 23:59:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7196876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exarkhos/pseuds/exarkhos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feng Wu has an unhealthy obsession. He wants those blue eyes to look at him, and only him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Focus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DerKnochenbrecher](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DerKnochenbrecher/gifts).



> First, I apologize to the Stranger fandom. All twelve of you. You don't deserve to be put through reading this. 
> 
> Second, this is not an example of a healthy relationship anyone should have. Please do not take relationship advice from either of these men. 
> 
> Third, this is for my buddy. I hope you enjoy it as much as it pained me to write it.

Feng Wu watched Luo Lang from a distance, high up on the altar overlooking the inner yard of the fort. He longed for the man to look up at him, to break his concentration on the horses and pay attention to him, and only him. He deserved those blue eyes and their focus. Feng Wu turned from the edge and paced away. There was still time, before they'd have to face the advancing Japanese. 

 

His feet led him down the altar steps and to the ground, towards the stables and Luo Lang. He cornered him in an alley between two buildings, blocked the man’s path with his own body. 

 

Luo Lang looked at him steadily and waited. The expression on his face told Feng Wu that it was his move. 

 

Whatever courage had driven him to this failed him under that gaze. “Master Luo Lang…”

 

“What is it?” the man asked. He sounded annoyed, dismissive, and Feng Wu felt his temper flare up once more. 

 

“Why do you pay such close attention to the horses?” Feng Wu demanded. It wasn’t what he wanted to say, he wanted to know why Luo Lang did not pay attention to him, when Feng Wu felt like his entire world revolve around the other. 

 

Even Mu Mao had noticed his  _ dedication _ to Luo Lang.

 

In fact, it seemed that Luo Lang was the only one who had yet to realize that Feng Wu would fight, throw himself on a sword for this man who now stood before him and stared at him, like he was a misbehaving dog, or a horse who refused the bit. 

 

When he got no response, Feng Wu felt anger bubble in his chest and turn his cheeks hot. Words spilled from his mouth when his rage at being ignored, once more, boiled over. “You pay attention to the horses, you listen to Bai Luan, you spend hours thinking of that- that samurai we met on the street- but you ignore me! Why?” 

 

His voice cracked on the last word. 

 

One of Luo Lang’s eyebrows raised. “You think I ignore you?” 

 

“You do! You did not even greet me when you returned-” 

 

Luo Lang shook his head. He smirked, and it wasn’t the kind of smile Feng Wu wanted to see from this man. It was cruel, the look he gave to someone not worthy of his time. “What do you want from me?” 

 

The question was barely a whisper. It crawled over Feng Wu’s skin and raised the hairs at the back of his neck. All too suddenly, he realized he had stepped over some invisible line. He had Luo Lang’s attention, those blue eyes didn’t leave his face as he waited for a reply. 

 

“I want… I…” Feng Wu stopped. He wanted to be acknowledged, he wanted Luo Lang to realize what he meant to Feng Wu. He wanted Luo Lang to touch him… The thought sent another shiver down Feng Wu’s spine. 

 

Luo Lang stepped forward and pinned Feng Wu against the building’s wall. He leaned down, pressed too close so that Feng Wu could smell him, and snarled into the smaller man’s face. “Do you really think you warrant my attention?” Luo Lang asked. 

 

“I do,” Feng Wu replied. Perhaps against his better judgement, but he could not back down now. He could not seem weak. He straightened his back and stared right back into Luo Lang’s eyes, defiant and proud, or so he thought. Even if his heart hammered in his chest. 

 

Before he could react, Luo Lang grabbed him by the throat. Feng Wu gasped, then closed his eyes as Luo Lang brought their faces together. He felt the man’s tongue along his jaw, then a brief touch of rough lips before Luo Lang bit into Feng Wu’s softer, fuller ones. He drew blood, and Feng Wu cried out in shock. 

 

There was no pain, but he could feel blood trickle down his chin. 

 

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” Luo Lang growled. 

 

Feng Wu wasn’t sure. He’d ached for the man’s attention, his touch, but this was… Too much. Yet, the ache was still there, and it made him want to beg for more. He opened his eyes once again and found Luo Lang’s through his haze. “Please, Master Luo Lang,” he murmured. “Do what you want with me.” 

 

His eyes closed once more, so he couldn’t see what Luo Lang did, but he could  _ feel _ him. The hand at his throat let go, replaced by one of Luo Lang’s powerful forearms that kept him pinned to the building. Luo Lang’s other hand dragged down his body, and roughly cupped him through his pants. 

 

Feng Wu was already hard, and the hand against his cock made him gasp. 

 

He once again felt Luo Lang’s mouth, hot against his jaw, as the man worked his teeth and tongue down his throat. Feng Wu was sure it would leave marks there, but he was too far gone to care. He wanted them. Proof that he belonged to Luo Lang. The thought made his cock twitch. 

 

Luo Lang’s hand left him for a moment to tug roughly at his clothes. He pulled them open, just enough to get his hand inside. He pushed past Feng Wu’s smallclothes and pressed his palm against Feng Wu’s cock. The contact of skin against skin was almost too much, and Feng Wu found his hips bucking forward as Luo Lang wrapped him in a fist and started to stroke him. 

 

“Master Luo…” Feng Wu gasped, his voice lost to a whine. 

 

“Keep quiet,” Luo Lang snarled at him. He bit down into Feng Wu’s throat, and Feng Wu was forced to stifle a moan. 

 

He did his best to stay quiet for Luo Lang, but the drag of his calloused palm against his cock was too good. It was rough, hard, but it was what he  _ needed. _ He came all too fast, a shudder wracked his entire body and he called out. He called out Luo Lang’s name as he spilled over his hand, soiling the inside of his pants with his seed. 

 

Luo Lang dropped him a moment later. Feng Wu’s legs were weak and could not hold him up, so he crumpled against the wall, his eyes level with Luo Lang’s pelvis. 

 

He wasn’t hard. Luo Lang had just made Feng Wu lose himself, and he’d not gotten anything out of it. A small, pitiful noise rose up and escaped Feng Wu’s throat. At least he had paid attention to him, at least he’d touched him… For a moment, his focus had been entirely on Feng Wu. 

 

“Clean yourself off,” Luo Lang growled. “Then get back to work. We have preparations to complete, if we ever want to leave this country.” 

 

Feng Wu did nothing as Luo Lang walked away. It took him some time to regain his composer, and when he did all he could do was wipe the blood from his chin. He ran his tongue over the wound Luo Lang’s teeth had left in his lip, tasted the copper of blood, and brushed his fingers over the bruises that man had left at his throat. 

 

He looked off into the distance and convinced himself that those marks meant something. He belonged to Luo Lang now, he had the focus of those blue eyes on him. 


End file.
